Broken Doors
by DevDev
Summary: After a severe nightmare, Kendall and Zach connect in ways they didn't know were possible. Zendall fic, Oneshot, set someplace in the near future.


A/N: I don't own All My Children and the various characters mentioned in this story.

**All reviews are very much appreciated. So please take time to review, thanks:-D**

The dark yet peaceful night loomed over the town of Pine Valley. The night air was humid, and lighting lit the sky in response to the severe humidity. It wasn't raining and there wasn't any thunder, but regardless, lighting lit up the inky like sky from time to time.

Kendall Hart, whose name had recently been altered to Kendall Hart Slater, lay in her bed. Deep within the same nightmare that has plagued her for months, she feels trapped and suffocated without an escape. Tonight though, the nightmare seems stronger and scarier than previous encounters. Tonight, the nightmare seems too real and frightening compared to previous nights.

On such previous nights, after she's had the nightmare, she wakes up crying. Tangled in her white, cotton sheets, she sometimes even forgets where she is upon waking. It has never shocked her to find her cheeks stained with tears nor has it shocked her to find fresh tears on the tips of her eyelashes, just waiting to splash onto her cheeks. Sometimes, when the nightmare becomes fresh and clear and she remembers what brought her to the frantic state she was in upon waking, she sobs.

Tonight though, she screamed. She wasn't conscious of the loud sound, which came from her very own mouth. Not even close to being awake, she was unaware of her very real surroundings. Clutching her soft sheets, her body tense and rigid, she screamed into her own darkness.

Zach Slater, who was in his own separate condo and not in the same one as his wife, heard her screams even through the walls and the courtyard that separated them. But the walls were thin and sleep was something Zach had never gotten along with. The instant he heard the shrill scream, he grabbed what could only be a suitable weapon in the time of haste and rushed out of his condo. Hardly taking time to think about the consequences of breaking down Kendall Hart Slater's door in order to get to her, he reasoned that whatever harm was done to the door could be fixed later. And with a swift kick, he rushed past the damaged door and set off to his wife's bedroom.

As he opened the white, wooden door, he was plunged into complete darkness. Although it was a bit disorienting, he immediately rushed into the room and hit a nearby light switch. Expecting greater harm than what appeared to be nothing at all, he dropped his silly looking weapon (a tennis racquet), and cautiously approached the still screaming figure.

As he got closer, he noticed Kendall was still asleep. Her eyes were screwed tight and she twisted and turned on her crumpled bed, but still held onto the edge of the rumpled sheets. Her kinked curls were waving wildly about behind her as her twisting and turning became even more severe. She stopped screaming for a moment to utter a sob and he noticed the river of tears running down her cheeks. Without a second more of hesitation, he knelt on the bed and lifted her tense form into his arms. "Kendall… wake up," he soothed quietly.

If anything, her body tensed further and she thrashed against him. "I won't let you," she mumbled, still asleep regardless of his voice. Letting go of her death like grip on the sheets, she moved to push him away, but he gripped her wrists and held them against himself. She stopped screaming, but continued to sob as she struggled to escape from him.

With more soothing phrases, he slightly raised his voice in hopes of breaking through her stupor. "Kendall, wake up… It's only a dream… You're okay." And then suddenly, she gasped and her eyes opened wide. She wildly looked around and her eyes rested on him after a moment. Although the dream was over and done with, her chest heaved with breath and he could tell she was still very much afraid. Instead of asking why he was there, which he expected to pop out of her mouth right away, she buried her head into his chest. In what seemed as natural as breathing, Zach wrapped his arms around her petite form and held her in the aftermath of what he guessed was a horrible nightmare. She was trembling slightly as she sniffed back the remainder of her tears and exhaled shakily, all while still buried in his chest. He could feel the dampness spread through the fabric, but found himself not caring, and slightly began to rest his head upon hers.

After what had felt like seconds, she began to pull away and as she did so, he lightly grazed her bare arm and looked her in the eye. "You okay?"

She didn't answer him, but looked down at the crumpled sheet. And, because he had acquired the skill a long time back, noticed Kendall putting on quite the impenetrable mask of emotions. She looked back up at him and smiled the most unconvincing smile he had ever seen on her face. "Must have dreamt they cancelled my favorite yogurt flavor again, huh."

He wasn't amused and didn't smile at her apparent cover-up joke. She was still shaking and he couldn't help but pick up the slight tremble in her voice. "Kendall—"

"Look, I appreciate you running over here and waking me up, but I'm okay. It was just some dream I probably won't ever remember." Her expression softened at the look on his face and she softly said, "let's just thank God I don't sleep nude, right?" Laughing dryly, she quickly got out of the bed and walked toward the door of her bedroom. Taking an elastic hair tie from her wrist, she gathered her curls and tied her hair back.

He was left kneeling on the bed and for a second seemed at a lost for what to do. The sudden abruptness of her departure seemed to leave him cold and empty. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts and rid himself of where his train of thought wanted to lead him, he picked up his tennis racquet and walked toward Kendall's kitchen, acutely aware of the humorous picture he made.

Kendall was standing beside her broken front door, trying to close it, but the door was refusing to cooperate with her and only went so far before it wouldn't move. She kicked the door and turned back to him. "Zach! What the hell did you do to my door?" After a brief pause she continued and said, "and why are you holding a tennis racquet?"

"How else do you think I could have gotten into your bedroom in the dead of night? And the tennis racquet seemed like a good idea at the time. I guess if someone or something had been in here, I would have… knocked them over the head." He shrugged, and helped himself to a seat on her couch, unsatisfied with leaving before discussing her nightmare. Seeming satisfied with his explanation, she walked in the opposite direction and settled herself with some task in the kitchen.

"Do you want something to drink," she called.

"No, thanks." He watched her as she prepared the teakettle and set it on her stove and then walked to where he was sitting.

She sat down next to him and said, "You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

"I want to."

They sat in silence, each one trying not to look at one another. They both tried to ignore their state of dress, him in shorts and a tank top and her in a robe that didn't leave much to his imagination. Trying to get it off his mind, he brought up her nightmare once more. "You sure you're okay?"

She looked at him and suppressed a shiver at the mention of the nightmare. Her emotional mask was wavering underneath his intense gaze. She could feel it crack and splinter and then… it fell apart completely. "He was back."

"Who was back," he asked while unintentionally moving closer to her.

She drew a shaky breath before speaking again. "Jonathan." She paused slightly, looking him in the eye, and then babbled the rest of the dream as quickly as she could. "He was Michael first. Michael was there and he had Bianca and Miranda. I tried to get them—I tried to make sure he didn't get them, but he did. I ran after him. And it felt so real, like I was really running. When I got there, Michael was gone, but Jonathan was there. It was like Michael had turned into him and he had Miranda and she was crying and screaming and Bianca was on the ground. And… I tried to help, but then they faded and I was left in the darkness. It was like… Michael was Jonathan and… and then they both just—

"And then Ryan was there. And he was them. He had turned into them! God, Greenlee was there but something was wrong and Ryan was standing over her. And he wouldn't let me go to her. He just kept on pushing me away and I kept on pushing back, but he just was too strong for me." She stopped and looked to the ceiling. Blinking rapidly, he could tell she was trying to hold back tears.

"Hey, hey… it's okay. Come here."

For the second time that night, Zach held Kendall. She wasn't weeping this time, but she was shaken nonetheless. He regretted the fact that he hadn't been around when his bastard brother had tormented Bianca, Kendall and the rest of their family. He also regretted the fact that he had been so oblivious to Jonathan's true intentions; not that he would have cared much anyway at that time, he guiltily assumed.

"It just seems so real, you know?"

"You've had it more than once." It wasn't a question, but a mere statement. Zach understood only too well how one nightmare could plague you for several months, sometimes years.

"It was never so bad. Tonight was… seeing Ryan as the new Michael sca—." She broke off suddenly and stopped speaking.

"What?"

She broke their embrace to look him in the eye. "Michael… Michael was your brother."

"Yeah, he was. But I've realized that the Michael I knew was an entirely different person than from the one your sister and you knew. I don't care if you insult my brother, Kendall. He deserves it after everything he's done to the people in this town."

Content, she sighed and realized she was wrapped around him pretty well. They broke away completely from one another, briefly losing eye contact as well. When they looked at one another again, time seemed to stop. Before either knew what the other was doing, Zach leant forward and just when he was about to kiss her, the teakettle's wail broke the two apart.

Almost like Kendall had just been caught doing something wrong, she leapt into the air and off the couch. Like a skittish cat, she walked into the kitchen and finished up making her tea. But Zach couldn't stand it. Guilt or no guilt, love or no love, screw up or no screw up, he didn't care any longer. He leapt from the couch, but not with an ounce of guilt in his bones and walked the short distance to her kitchen. Taking the teakettle from her hands and putting it down on some obscure section of her counter, he caressed her cheek and then leaned down and kissed her. It took Kendall a moment, but she kissed back too. And before they knew it, the both of them were wrapped up around each other again.

Pressing her against the stove, he kissed her hungrily. Each kiss felt better than the last one and he couldn't of stopped even if he had wanted to. Apparently though, she could and did. She pushed him away, not far, but not close enough for him to continue what he had been doing only seconds before.

"We can't do this, Zach!" She was breathless and appeared to be weak for she was leaning against the stove for support.

"Do what?"

"We can't… do… _what you clearly want to do_."

He rubbed his chin and softly sighed. "Hmm, I seem to think I've heard that line somewhere before."

She smiled at him, realizing she had said it one time before now. Forgetting the teakettle and the tea she was supposed to be preparing, she moved to the living room again. "Maybe you should go."

"Were my kisses that bad," he joked.

"Believe me when I say that was **not** the problem. It was opposite actually and that's the problem."

"Well, I'm not going to leave you in a place where the front door is broken. It's part of my husband duties to make sure you're in a place where the front door can always remain closed."

"Your tennis racquet can protect me."

"As funny as I find that, I'm serious Kendall. I broke your door and it's my fault, but I still can't leave you here." He paused, considering what he was about to say. Throwing caution to the wind, he said, "You could always stay in that charming little place across the courtyard. Enchanting, cozy, and quite differently arranged from the time you last saw it as to avert from the fact my maniac brother lived there first."

She bit her lip, considering his offer. Walking over to her door, she inspected the damage once more and finally voiced her answer (not that she had much of a choice). "Okay, but tomorrow, you get to call and pay someone to fix this. And, separate sleeping quarters." Holding out a hand, she waited for him to shake it.

"I was hoping you'd forget about that."

"Forget what? Paying for the door," she asked coyly, while still holding out her hand.

He rolled his eyes. "You know what I'm talking about." In one swift step he had crossed to where she stood and he shook her hand. "Deal. I promise to be a good boy."

And, then the two walked across the courtyard to Zach's condo, both knowing quite well that while they had agreed to separate sleeping quarters, most promises were made to be broken.

The End

End Note: Many of you might figure this out, but the title, Broken Doors, refers not only to the door Zach broke to get into Kendall's condo, but refers to a symbolic meaning as well. Let's just say that these two, during the story, broke down a few doors to each other's hearts. Can't wait for that to really happen.


End file.
